


re-spawn

by galaxyeyedrops



Category: Kamen Rider Ex-Aid
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-18
Updated: 2017-01-18
Packaged: 2018-09-18 08:43:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9377204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/galaxyeyedrops/pseuds/galaxyeyedrops
Summary: he is the only rider needed





	

**Author's Note:**

> prompt: [ medical profession / gunpowder ]
> 
> went ahead and did the exact same wc as piper bc lol why not

When Hanaya Taiga is seventeen, he dreams of being a doctor.

He’s smart (not the smartest). His grades are good (but not the best).

So, he does what everyone else does.

He studies.

He studies and studies and studies.

He studies until his eyes are bloodshot, he writes until his fingers go numb.

He works and works until it’s a shadow of himself that takes the entrance exam, a ghost that holds up the acceptance letter.

His class ranking is high (not the highest), and while his course load is heavy, it’s not the heaviest.

He works even harder, drives himself into the ground, then gets up to drive himself in ever further. It gets to the point where he might as well be injecting caffeine into his veins, with the amount of coffee he drinks.

Hanaya Taiga works and works and doesn’t stop. He works until his body starts shutting down around him, then takes another cup, and works again.

In the end, he is not the best. Far from it.

(But he is a doctor.)

 

Somewhere around the lines, between one term paper and another, he learns restraint. When to relax and how.

You see, everyone has their own way to de-stress.

Some people play sports, others watch TV. Some people people shop, other people create.

(Hanaya Taiga likes to play video games.)

Shooters are, by far, his favorite. There’s something about the solid grip of the controller as enemies come at you in real time. There’s something about the sound of gunpowder exploding as people curse as they’re forced to quit.

There’s something about that pulse-pounding action, something about that cool rationality as you weave in and out of obstacles, dodging, ducking behind the enemy if needed, as you work your way to victory.

And more than that, Taiga is good at them too.

He knows what guns to use and when, knows the best spots to camp at, and when to shoot.

He climbs the rankings quickly.

(But stays well short of the leader boards.)

He continues playing regardless, well into his internship, making time for it even through an ever-growing workload.

And strangely enough, his efforts pay off.

 

In his third year of residency, a pink haired girl knocks on his apartment door. She's a cosplayer, from the look of it, and a particularly good one at that.

“You've got the wrong room,” Taiga drawls out, staring her down through the door crack.

“No,” She says, staring back just as intensely, puffing out her cheeks for good measure. “I've definitely got the right one.”

Hanaya Taiga raises an eyebrow and listens to her story.

 

She leads him to the hospital, through the main doors, and into the elevator.

(Warning bells ring in Taiga’s mind, that something is up, that this is a trap.

And yet…)

She leads him to the Director's Office, knocks twice before letting herself in.

The Director sits at his desk, hands folded in front of his face. Standing next to him, a businessman, gripping a briefcase so hard his knuckles turn white.

The Director motions to an empty chair and Taiga takes a seat.

 

Working for the CR is a bit more hands on than what he's used to.

As a radiologist, he administers and analyzes tests. Its him who knows what’s wrong simply by looking for a slightly different color, a slightly different pattern, a slightly different shape.

(He'll give credit where it's due, of course, the Genm President had handed him the Bang Bang Shooting Gashat almost immediately, but still…)

(It's a lot more hands on than he expected.)

 

Zero Day comes and goes.

And Taiga deals with the fallout.

There are hundreds of patients, one after another, the CR piling up with victims so fast that they have to relocate them, not only to other parts of the hospital, but other hospitals as well.

Taiga flits between them, shoots one bugster down, then another.

He reloads.

Rinse and repeat.

It's late into the night when the Director shows up. And along with him, his son.

There's a girl in the main bed, fading fast, held up by the queue (and probably not able to hold on for much longer).

“I'll get rid of it,” Taiga says, through his exhaustion, slotting in his gashat.

The son, uncertain, holds her hand.

(The bugster transforms. Her hand slips through his grasp.)

 

“You.” The boy’s nails dig into his palms. “You're the one who let her die.”

Taiga narrows his eyes and walks past him without a word.

He has nothing to say (nothing he can say).

He has work to do.

(But, as it so turns out, he doesn't.)

 

Years pass and Taiga claws his way through them.

Re-establishing himself is hard, almost impossible to do legally (so he goes illegal instead).

He sets up shop in an abandoned hospital, salvages what equipment he can, and spreads the news, little by little.

He makes sure to roam in the right circles, stresses the ‘doesn't ask questions’ bit, disappearing when the cops get too close.

(It's a risky business. But then again, when had it not been?)

 

Years pass, the old numbers bow out and the new ones come in.

And with them, a new selection of Riders.

They've got a genius this time, from what Taiga’s seen (no, not the son, the now the genius surgeon), a Rider picked straight from the top of the player boards.

Genius Gamer M, they call him. A legend in the gaming community, a clumsy intern outside of it.

 

He's good. There's no maybes about it. He effortlessly navigates through the level even though it's his first time, as if the concept of trial and error is nothing to him.

Others start to pop up too, one by one. The rich boy surgeon. A coroner. Even a Rider that willingly works with the Bugsters.

He himself manages to get his hands on a new belt and gashat as well.

The colors on this version of Bang Bang Shooting are brighter, the output just a little less powerful.

The grip is familiar in his hand as Taiga presses the button, the voices are identical.

(Without him, Taiga tells himself, the genius gamer would have never found, much less killed the boss.

Without Taiga, the patient would have died.

He is important, he is good, he is _needed._ )

(In fact, he’s the only one who is.)

More bugsters show up.

The stakes get higher, the power ups get better.

His level three form is the last of the five, but in his opinion, by far the best.

The maneuverability provided by the Jet Combat gashat offsets his average (at best) speed and defense, adding a new dimension to a previously cleared game.

And, in one fell swoop, he has four out of the ten gashats.

(This time, it'll be him at the top.)

(“I'm sorry,” the genius gamer says as he bows, hands griping his knees, eyes fixed on the floor. “Let's work together to save Dr. Kyoutaro.”)

( _Can't you understand? I don't need anyone else._

 _I'm good enough, I can fix it myself_ .)

Once again, Taiga is wrong. He does not singlehandedly beat the dragon, he does not win the gashat.

The genius does.

He is not the one who figures out who the Black Ex-Aid is. Is not the one who peels back the facades to expose the man underneath.

That is the coroner.

He stands alongside the others. He is nothing more than extra help, but in no way needed, no way wanted.

(Dismissed when he becomes inconvenient.)

 

On Christmas, Misfortune walks through his door.

“I want to you to beat up Genius Gamer M,” she says. “You'll do it, won't you?”

(She doesn't ask if he _can_.)

On Christmas, Misfortune strikes a man down. The man murmurs words of encouragement to the genius gamer before fading away.

He leaves no body but countless questions.

(And it's up to him to solve them.)

Hanaya Taiga is good. But the question remains, is he good enough?

 

**Author's Note:**

> dedicated to piper who thirsted by my side (for emu) as i wrote this
> 
> then we realized sleep was a thing


End file.
